


"brother" is an alibi

by stormtongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Choking, First Time, M/M, Sibling Incest, Top Thor (Marvel), tense changes, very requited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormtongue/pseuds/stormtongue
Summary: Sometimes, but especially when they are drunk on apple-tainted honey-wine and sinful shared secrets and the knowledge that they are being watched, they like to play a little game. A touch isn’t only a touch, a look isn’t only a look, a word isn’t only a word. They echo what they do alone in the twilit corridors and locked rooms and shadowy copses of Asgard’s palace, just to see if anyone will wonder. Just to see what they can get away with. Just to share silent affirmations together that they’d both rather be elsewhere doing things not meant for two sons of the king to be doing. “Brother” is an alibi.





	"brother" is an alibi

Sometimes, but especially when they are drunk on apple-tainted honey-wine and sinful shared secrets and the knowledge that they are being watched, they like to play a little game. A touch isn’t only a touch, a look isn’t only a look, a word isn’t only a word. They echo what they do alone in the twilit corridors and locked rooms and shadowy copses of Asgard’s palace, just to see if anyone will wonder. Just to see what they can get away with. Just to share silent affirmations together that they’d both rather be elsewhere doing things not meant for two sons of the king to be doing. “Brother” is an alibi.

 

The first touch may have been accidental. A brush of pajama-clad thighs under the breakfast table, long ago when they were first learning what desire meant and how something so quiet as skin on skin might ignite it. The novel feelings were buried so deep within their bodies that they could not have understood them yet. Maybe, just maybe, they didn’t want to. After all, what use was innocence once it was lost? But… maybe this was innocence, or at least the closest to it two boys growing up could hope to come. A brush was only a brush, but after it ended, every experience was a shared one between them. Thor was protective, Loki selfish, both possessive. The only body worth sharing with a prince was that of another prince.

 

Now, Thor knows nothing has diminished; Loki is still the only one he knows in that way, and he prefers that to never change. He knows that for Loki, he is awarded the same distinction. It is the one thing he does not doubt his trust for Loki in. He breathes the promise into Loki’s neck when Fandral winks from across the dust-laden training grounds. In any case, Fandral doesn’t seem surprised.

 

Time changed all and nothing. They soon found that there were advantages to their situation, and couldn’t help trying out each one. In the silence of the room they shared as children, a brush became a rut, a whisper wondering  _ “is this right?”  _ became a sloppy, choked kiss. Once it started, it couldn’t stop; always hesitant, always trying, pushing farther and farther, discovering, wishing to learn, to explore, and who the better to experiment on than one’s own brother? It was only innocent, still. They didn’t know better.

 

Loki passes off the light, jocular hit to Thor’s testicles during a palace feast as a drunken accident, or maybe a meaningless gesture intended to hurt and not satisfy. That is what boys do, is it not? Surely brothers don’t ever do such a thing because they  _ want _ it. There is no  _ want  _ in brotherhood, only what one has as a function of fate. Loki sees the desire hidden deeply in Thor’s grimace.

 

They had never quite agreed on when it advanced. Loki thought he realized it earlier. It was only an echo of the first time, when he had naturally, unconsciously shifted his hand to rub the obtrusive length in the center of his hips in some primal instinct to sate his growing need, and Thor’s own cock only happened to get in the way of it. It couldn’t be helped, not when two bodies were so pressed together as to leave too little room between for even Loki’s slender arm to slip between; such was the nature of two boys in their late teens yet too committed to the exclusivity of brotherhood that they hadn’t yet bedded another. Kissing was still nothing; it was their thing, little more than a chaste sign of affection between brothers too afraid of becoming enemies to stop one another from trying just one more thing, just one more touch, just to enjoy the feel of it. It didn’t  _ mean _ anything.

 

Thor and Loki are together on a battlefield on some unnamed moon, settling some unnamed dispute in some inconsequential battle that will surely be forgotten as soon as they leave for home. Loki sends an invading magma-demon flying across the stale, grassy field with a war-cried spell, then goes back to work putting out the wildfires that are spreading across the brush to the forest-dwelling city behind them. Thor’s grip on Mjolnir is tight and true when he shatters the last of the fiery brutes. Loki extinguishes the rest of the blaze and looks to Thor. Together, they are unstoppable. Nobody questions why, though they wonder.

 

Thor’s hand on Loki’s cock had been no less strong nor intimate when their need surpassed what rubbing against each other could give them. There was no use, anymore, in pretending they were anything less than what they were, not to each other when there was no hiding the joy they were capable of wringing from the other’s body. The first time they shared an orgasm had been messy, strange, tinged with the frantic, feverish impulse of one who knows they are doing something wrong. But they had gotten better. More practiced, until the feel of each other’s cocks in each other’s hands was more familiar than their own. It was only a kindness to placate each other this way; a thank you, a you’re welcome, a greeting shared only behind closed doors. It meant nothing more than brotherhood, but brotherhood they cherished nonetheless.

 

Loki has never left his teasing phase behind. Thor has never grown so wise as to be unaffected by it. Sometimes, it can be their only hint of exposure when others are around; they must take advantage of whether they are in earshot or eyeshot. Sometimes, Loki likes to do it even when he knows others are listening. The others cannot know that when Loki asks if Thor’s biceps are bigger than his brain, or which serving-girl Thor fucked last night, or whether Thor is still worthy of Mjolnir after his latest misdeed, that it is only because he loves Thor so dreadfully that he cannot help but pester him for it; receive confirmation that yes, Thor still cares enough to attempt a bite back, he hasn’t grown bored with Loki, or worse, developed morals stopping him from enjoying their nights spent together. But outwardly, it only sounds like good-natured teasing. Loki revels in the ambiguity. 

 

Thor never wanted to tell Loki that it took him so long to reconcile what they were doing with what he felt inside. He knew exactly when it had occurred, and yet after hearing that Loki felt as he did for so much longer, he felt ashamed for not reciprocating it sooner. He knew that he could feel no other way when Loki’s tongue was never less stilled than when it was writhing up and down Thor’s cock; like his mind, he was always moving incessantly, pryingly, hungrily around the tip until it was all too much for Thor and he spilled, warm and thick and tangy, down the back of Loki’s throat. It usually shut him up for a bit, or at least until Thor brought him close to finishing in return (he was always reciprocating now) when Loki’s voice returned in full force whimpering from the same place in his throat that Thor had just coated with himself. They quickly learned to cast a silencing spell on whatever room or closet they had found empty in a moment of mutual need.

 

A hug is still innocent, even when they are fully grown. Frigga and Odin see it as a blessed sign that their sons, so often at war with one another, can still be civil. That even the most different of men may still get along when they are brothers. When they disagree, when they struggle to harmonize their diverting paths, when they want nothing more than to bring each other down for imagined slights, a hug is all it takes to remind them. 

 

Loki was as prepared as he’d ever be, oil-slicked and opened with his own two long fingers. Thor was too afraid of hurting Loki to do it himself, which had made Loki laugh. Even then, with Thor hard and lust-blind and hungry, Loki had to lower himself onto Thor’s cock, moving slower than he ever had in his life, wishing they might still be able to call each other brother after this act of ultimate surrender. After he was fully seated the first time, Thor couldn’t stop himself from sinking all his emotion and energy and love into each thrust; he always left Loki broken and bruised and perfect. Loki would have it no other way.

 

Sometimes, Loki deserves Thor’s hand crushing his windpipe, or perhaps messily covering up his liar’s mouth, or simply using his neck as a handle to control him when Loki is growing too audacious. Loki never minds it. He thinks Thor has a point. And it always works. 

 

Loki had asked for it. He thought he’d deserved it. Thor hadn’t disagreed. It certainly didn’t fail to make finishing all the more sweeter when it came with a replenishing of oxygen. 

 

Even betrayal stinks of love. They haven’t admitted it yet. Loki is close. He has never been happier than when Thor gives him what he deserves. The closest thing to it is the feeling of his brother’s mouth, his teeth, his tongue all pressed against his own and quieting his liar’s instinct. He is grateful for the respite.

 

Thor thinks they can do better. Maybe, one day, this roughness might turn to gentle embraces and easy kisses, all their innocence restored because they are doing the very thing brothers are meant to do. A prince for a prince. It is sin to do anything less. 

 

Either way, they are in this together.

 

Their love is immortal. One day, they will accept it. Embrace it, even. It is soon. They have an alibi.


End file.
